For forty four years, Alonzo King’s Lines Ballet has been a dance success story, due largely to the work and determination of its founder and choreographer, Alonzo King. At the forefront of contemporary and modern dance in the Bay, he has made Lines a celebrated company worldwide. But the season-closing program, Legacy + Ode to Alice Coltrane, offered little reason for celebration. The evening proved a moderately thrilling but repetitive slog in which unimaginative choreography confined a cast of highly skilled artists.
The evening opened with the world premiere of Mr. King’s Legacy (“The Immeasurable Immensity of Your Inheritance”), whose cumbersome title should have warned us what was to come. The curtain rose on esperanza spalding, the Grammy Award–winning voice of modern fusion jazz and soul. She stood downstage right, resplendent in a glowing, almost kaftan-like gown designed by Colleen Quen . With her upright bass at her side, she immediately felt like the main attraction, and understandably so. Her voice rings true, and its silky resonance complements the low tones of her plucked and strummed bass. No definable melody emerges, but she maintains a steady rhythmic pulse that, for a time, proves quite pleasant.
Upstage, Adji Cissoko appears. She is the “it” girl of the Lines cohort. This was my first time seeing her perform, and she is a rare creature—long, sinewy, striking, and strong. Ms. Cissoko takes the stage with full command. She embodies the aesthetic that has long defined Mr. King’s taste, and each dancer who follows appears as a variation on that theme. Players enter and exit, a duet here, a solo there, but the movement remains insular. The performers rarely meet one another’s gaze, let alone the audience’s.
The relationship between music and movement feels tenuous. When spalding crescendos, the choreography often does not, and vice versa. I understand the intent behind abstraction in tone and musicality, but after thirty minutes of antic, themeless movement of limb and torso, the mind wanders. Focus slips. After a spate of solos and some untidy group work, Mr. King gives us a pas de deux, danced by Cissoke and Shauib Elhassan, and the hope that a partnering section might provide something akin to emotional connection. Unfortunately, the choreography lacks physical connectivity and plays cautious, limiting itself to a midrange of motion. spalding’s emotive performance only sharpens the disconnect, making the music and dance feel as though they belong to separate works, or separate planets. As the shape and tone of Legacy begin to settle, the musical landscape starts to resemble a long drive down Interstate 5 toward Southern California: a lot of the same. The piece ends as it begins, leaving me more perplexed than enthralled.
Ode to Alice Coltrane offers a far richer musical tapestry. Notably, the wife of John Coltrane, Alice Coltrane stands firmly on her own artistic ground. Each track blends jazz, soul, classical, and experimental elements, featuring archaic synthesizers and Eastern instrumentation rarely heard in radio music of the era. The musical programming follows a more traditional arc, rising and falling in intensity as each dance unfolds.
Seah Johnson’s lighting design complements this beautifully, creating distinct and immersive environments without the need for sets. Sharp, architectural backdrops dissolve into ethereal, waterworld-like spaces. The shift is welcome.
Unfortunately, the choreography does not follow suit. The same anti-social noodling (a less-than-complimentary dance-industry term, where the body writhes and contorts without impetus) returns, reading less as experimentation and more as indulgence. I do not believe excess is Mr. King’s intention, but the work simply lacks the ideas to sustain its forty-seven-minute runtime, and it shows.
It is difficult to witness such extraordinary talent and feel so underwhelmed by its direction. I want to acknowledge the hard work and dedication of everyone involved. In a moment when funding for the performing arts continues to erode (here’s to you, Mr. Mayor of San Diego), one hesitates to criticize harshly. But if dance is so fragile that we cannot say what works and what does not, then the situation is more dire than it appears.
Despite my frustrations, singular talents remain on display, and the evening still offers more than a night alone with Apple TV+. Text a friend. Invite someone you love. At the very least, you will have plenty to talk about.
